


Building a Better Résumé

by the_deep_magic



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crack, First Time, M/M, Size Kink, Smut, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-26
Updated: 2009-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_deep_magic/pseuds/the_deep_magic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Chris has written a bucket list of things he wants to do before he dies. Having sex with a man is one of them. Zach finds said list and decides to offer his services.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Building a Better Résumé

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been translated into Russian by the awesome Dreaming_Cat. You can find it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/721602)!

_****_

“And it’s really that much fun?” Chris asks, chewing on the end of a pen.

“Better than a kick to the head,” says Karl.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Only if you’re not strapped in right. The balls are totally safe.”

“Okay,” says Zach, who just wandered up to the other two men. “You’re obviously not talking about what I thought you were talking about.”

“Pervert!” Chris sticks out his tongue. “Karl was telling me about Zorbing.”

“Rolling down a hill in a giant hamster ball? Even worse, _paying_ somebody to roll me down a hill in a giant hamster ball? No, thank you.”

Karl rolls his eyes. “It’s a lot more fun than it sounds.”

“How has everybody else heard of this already?” Chris whines.

“You live a very sheltered life,” Karl says with feigned pity, patting Chris on the top of the head. An overworked-looking assistant peeks her head around the corner, but before she can say anything, Karl gets up out of the chair. “I’m needed elsewhere. Your Kiwi cultural education will have to wait.”

As Zach sits down into the now-vacant chair, being extraordinarily careful with his costume – the wardrobe lady likes to yell “Spock does not wrinkle!” while chasing him around with the steamer hose – Chris pulls out a small, beat-up notebook and scribbles something down.

“What’s that?” Zach asks.

“Oh,” says Chris with an embarrassing little blush. “It’s kind of stupid. I keep a list of all the things I want to do before I die.”

“And you carry it around with you?”

“Not specifically. There’s a lot of stuff in this notebook.”

“Let’s see it then,” says Zach, yanking it out of Chris’ hands before the younger man can stash it away.

“Hey, no—” Chris makes a grab for it, but he too lives in fear of Wardrobe Lady, and has known Zach long enough to realize that if he wants to read what’s in there, he’ll find a way to get it.

Zach leafs through the pages, probably looking for ammunition. “Hmm… some lofty goals here. ‘Publish a collection of short stories.’ ‘See the Nazca line drawings in Peru from a helicopter.’ Oh, now here’s a good one – ‘try the following cheeses: Limburger, Wensleydale, Stinking Bishop.’ You watched Wallace and Gromit, didn’t you?”

“Er, maybe. A little bit.”

“It just keeps getting better. ‘Have sex on a boat.’ ‘Have sex with… a man?!”

“Give me that!” Chris yelps, his face going bright red as he abandons all attempts at costume conservation and lunges at Zach, his chair nearly toppling over. In the ensuing scuffle Chris gets the notebook back and stuffs it in his bag, but the damage is already done. He groans and buries his face in his hands. “I’m just… kind of curious, is all.”

When he looks up, Zach is grinning like the cat that not only ate the canary, but also discovered a back way into a pet shop called The Slow, Overweight Canary Emporium. “All you have to do is ask, man.”

“What makes you think I’d want to sleep with _you_?”

Zach spreads his arms in an expansive gesture, as if showing off the goods. “Bitch, please. If you have only one man in your life, you might as well go with the best. I can supply a résumé and references, if you like. Lots of references.”

“I am never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Nope.”

“I hate you.”

“Don’t be too hasty, now – read the résumé first.”

&&&

Chris thought Zach was joking. He really, really did. So when Zach shows up at his trailer a few days later with a piece of thick, expensive-looking, ivory-colored paper, he assumes Zach wants him to proofread a bitchy letter to the Neighborhood Homeowner’s Association or something. He’s wrong; it is Zach’s résumé, though hopefully not the one he uses to get his acting jobs.

“Holy fuck, I don’t even know what some of this shit is,” moans Chris, wondering when exactly he fell down the rabbit hole. He points to one particular item under the “Special Skills” section. “Like this. What the hell is this?”

Zach’s grin and humble little chuckle are just short of terrifying. “Oh, don’t worry about that. You need at least three people, 20 yards of nylon rope, and an exposed ceiling joist to do that.”

“You made some of this stuff up.”

“I did no such thing. Pick something and I’ll show you.”

“Just how dumb do you think I am?”

“Not dumb at all. In fact, I assume that you wouldn’t embark on any of the endeavors on your list without careful research. As you can see, I’ve recently gotten a clean bill of health and I’m always well-stocked with supplies.”

“Oh god, you’ve listed Milo as a reference?”

“We parted amicably. I believe he’ll give me quite the glowing recommendation.”

“I am not calling Milo.”

&&&

He calls Milo.

They’ve met twice before, both times very briefly, and when the other man picks up the phone, Chris finds he has no idea what to say. They stumble through the pleasantries, and Milo seems like a straightforward sort of guy, so Chris just comes out with the whole story.

Milo laughs knowingly. “He gave you a résumé, huh?”

“You don’t sound terribly surprised.”

“Look, this is something you should know; there’s not a whole hell of a lot Zach won’t do. He definitely won’t force you into anything – matter of fact, he usually waits for you to ask – but he knows what he wants and he goes for it. The résumé thing is new. Nice touch, though.”

“Uhh… Do I want details?”

“You don’t sound like you want details.”

“Maybe the better question is what else do I need to know?”

“Do you trust him?”

Chris almost blurts out _Of course_ but he gets the feeling it’s not a trivial question, so he stops to think about it. He and Zach have known each other a few years now, have been close friends for about a year. He’s done pet-sitting duty and seen Zach through a rather nasty breakup. Zach has been calming his nerves on set on a fairly regular basis and is one of the few people who are aware that Chris has nerves to calm.

“Yeah. I trust him.”

“Tell him that. He won’t take it lightly, I promise.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

“No prob. Oh, and he can be a bit… bossy.”

Chris wonders if he’s imagining the little tremor in Milo’s voice on the last word.

&&&

Two weeks pass after the Résumé Incident and Zach doesn’t bring it up again. Sitting alone in at a distressingly sticky booth in the back of the club, Chris starts to wonder if he somehow hallucinated the whole thing. He’s only had a couple of drinks tonight, just enough to get him buzzed but not enough to truly impair his judgment. Zoe has Zach out on the dance floor, and _holy fuck_ , the way they move together has to be breaking all kinds of public decency codes. Zoe has her back to him, one arm draped back around his neck and the other covering his hand on her hip. She laughs as Zach whispers something into her ear, his hips never slowing or losing the beat. Chris has never, ever seen a straight man move like that, and it occurs to him that if he were gay, Zach really might be out of his league.

The song ends and Chris pretends to stare at something else, feigning surprise when Zoe drags Zach back over to the table. “I know you don’t get tired, yoga boy, but my feet are killing me,” she moans, sliding into the booth. She turns to Chris. “Seriously. This guy could probably go all night if you let him.” Then she winks.

Chris tries to say “Zach, what the hell did you _tell_ her?” momentarily forgetting that he has a mouthful of beer. Which is now spilling, fountain-like, from his mouth and down the front of his shirt. The expression of studied innocence on Zach’s face doesn’t change, even as Zoe clutches her sides with laughter and tosses a single cocktail napkin in Chris’ direction.

“Ow, fuck!” she gasps. “Cramping. Can’t breathe. Gonna go get some water.” She staggers off in the vague direction of the bar and Chris stares accusingly at Zach.

“I didn’t breathe a word, Scout’s honor!” Zach says, solemnly holding up two fingers.

“You were never a Boy Scout,” Chris mutters, patting ineffectually at his damp shirt with the already-soaked napkin.

Zach shrugs. “Fucked an Eagle Scout once.”

“What in _hell_ —”

“Unclench, Christopher. We were both in high school at the time. Damn, if they handed out merit badges for giving head…” He trails off, looking lost in thought until Chris snaps his fingers loudly in front of Zach’s face. “Wait, what was the topic? Oh, right. I haven’t mentioned your bucket list entry to anyone.”

“Honestly?”

“For realsies. No one would believe me, anyway. They all think you’re straighter than an obsessive-compulsive’s graph paper.”

Chris sits up a little in the booth. “I am. Mostly.”

Zach’s grin turns wicked. “And I don’t sleep with my friends. Mostly. I assume you’ve given it some thought.”

Chris tries to ignore the flush rising in his cheeks. “Again with the inflated ego.”

“Hey, I just happen to know where my strengths lie. I’m not offering to fix your plumbing or sing opera or herd cats.”

“So what exactly are you offering?”

“My… services. Anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Any depraved thing your hetero brain can come up with.”

“Should you really go around offering that?” Chris leans forward and drops his voice – as though anyone is paying them any attention at all. “What if I’m into, like, _feet_ or something?”

“Are you into feet, Christopher?”

“Quit calling me that. And I could be!”

“But you aren’t,” Zach says with a condescending little sigh. “First of all, I do not go around making this offer to everyone. I made it to _you_ – and the fact that the nastiest thing you could come up with was a foot fetish is, I have to say, refreshing. So, yes, anything you like, feet included. I do have some suggestions though.”

“Suggestions?” Chris repeats, his voice only squeaking a little.

“Mmm-hmm. Though I have to warn you, I might ruin blowjobs for you forever.” Somehow, his grin gets even wider, and his tongue pokes out to sweep over his upper lip. “All others will suffer in comparison to The Quinto.”

“Well, now I have to say yes or it’ll look like I’m chicken.”

Zach leans across the table and growls, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” and Chris tries to pretend the shiver that runs down his spine has to do with the cold beer spilled down his shirt front and not the pet name. Or that outrageously lustful look in Zach’s eyes. Or the way Zach’s long, elegant fingers are stroking down the bottle of his – Chris’ – beer.

Fuck _that_ noise. Chris is horny and just buzzed enough not to think too closely about the consequences – it’s been a long while since he checked anything off that bucket list anyway. That’s as good an excuse as any. He grips Zach’s chin in his hand. “I trust you. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I do. Come home with me.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Zach breathes.

&&&

Chris turns and yanks Zach through the doorway by his lapels, having failed completely at preventing the older man from groping his ass while they both stood exposed to the street on his doorstep. “Do you top or bottom?”

“Yes,” says Zach with a leering smirk.

“Well. Good to know we’ve got options.”

“You talk entirely too much,” mutters Zach, cutting off Chris’ incipient reply by crushing their mouths together. It gives Chris no time at all to stop and think, which is probably a good thing, because if he thought too hard about the stubble scratching his cheeks or the growing bulge in Zach’s jeans currently pressed against his hip (speaking of hard), he might panic.

And Zach – once he can focus on something other than stilling Chris’ squirming – is actually a pretty damn good kisser. His mouth is hot and insistent, and he does this _thing_ with his tongue that has Chris groaning and surging back against him. Zach seems to like the aggression, laughing breathlessly against Chris’ mouth and pulling him in tighter.

Eventually, they have to break for air, and Zach seems pretty pleased with himself. “So,” he says casually, running a thumb over Chris’ kiss-swollen lower lip. “Where should we begin?”

Chris’ mind keeps coming back to one thing. “That mouth really as impressive as you say it is?”

Somehow Zach’s grin gets even wider. “Better.”

“Alright,” Chris says, going for aloofness as he takes a step away from Zach and leans back against the wall, arms crossed. This is just ordinary verbal jousting with Zach plus a little sex – he can totally do that. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“How ‘bout we relocate to the bedroom? Don’t want you collapsing on me like a sack of kittens when your legs give out.”

“Negative. I think I want you on your knees right here.”

Zach loosens his tie as he strides over, then plants his hands on either side of Chris’ shoulders and leans in. “Mmm, I am going to thoroughly enjoy reducing you to incoherency before I even get you into bed.”

“Reduce me to incoherency and you _might_ get me into bed.”

“First you request my services and then you make me work for it.” Zach sniffs. “If it were any kind of challenge at all, I might be offended.”

Suddenly, Zach leans down and nips at the juncture of Chris’ jaw and throat. He yelps in surprise, but Zach continues sucking lightly at his neck. “Pity I can’t mark you. A bruise would look so lovely… just here.” He sucks a little harder at the spot just over Chris’ pulse, and the younger man grinds his hips against Zach’s.

“Fine,” Zach sighs, “I get the message. We’ll play later.” With that, he wastes no time unfastening Chris’ jeans and pulling his hardening cock out of his underwear. “Jesus, Pine, you got a permit for that thing?”

With Zach’s long, elegant fingers around him, it takes Chris a full five seconds to realize he’s been asked a question. “What?”

Zach heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Must I spell it out for you? Your dick. Is huge.”

With a surprisingly clear head, Chris takes a moment to consider cultural differences. “That’s still a good thing, right?”

“The Gays do not live in Opposite Land, Christopher.”

“This is all new to me and _stop calling me Christopher_.”

“I most certainly will not,” Zach says, sliding down to his knees. “It gets you all hot and bothered, and Little Christopher down here – _hello_ – deserves as many syllables as possible.”

“And you say _I_ talk too much? Put that mouth to work, Quinto.”

“Did Zoe tell you how much I love bossy straight boys? Because—”

Before Zach can get another word out, Chris grips Zach firmly by the back of the head and guides him toward his cock. True to his word, Zach seems to relish the direction, humming happily as he takes the head of Chris’ cock into his mouth and _fuck_ , Chris’ knees damn near give out right there. Zach fits a hand neatly around Chris’ hipbone to hold him in place as he playfully circles his tongue around the crown before taking him deep.

It’s not just Zach’s technique – it’s his enthusiasm that has Chris digging his nails into the plaster of the wall. Zach is groaning around his cock like he’s getting off on this as much as Chris is, and when Chris looks down, sure enough, the heel of Zach’s hand is pressing against the bulge in his own jeans. The sight makes Chris whimper a little, to which Zach responds with hard stroke of his tongue.

The next time Chris’ hips jerk forward, Zach lets them. In fact, he guides Chris’s hips forward and backwards a few times with his hands before letting go, and if that’s not the international gesture for “please fuck my mouth,” then Zach really needs to work on his nonverbal communication skills. Chris obviously got the message right, though, because Zach’s moaning even louder as Chris grips his hair and thrusts into that hot, welcoming mouth. He’s not holding back, either, and Zach is taking it with ease, his eyes falling shut as his hand works harder at his own erection.

Chris’ toes start to curl in his shoes, and he figures he owes Zach some warning at least. “Getting close,” he gasps, and Zach takes that as his cue to suck hard and fast. Chris’ orgasm swells through him like tidal wave, so deep and thorough that he swears he feels his skin expanding to accommodate it. Zach swallows down each hot pulse, then presses a surprisingly tender kiss to Chris’ oversensitive cock, which sets off another small tremor in his body. And, yes, his legs do weaken, but he maintains enough motor function to slide down the wall instead of collapsing forward onto Zach.

Fuck his pride, really. Fuck it with a rusty chainsaw. Chris’ pride never got him blown so well that his hands shook, so he doesn’t miss it.

Zach scoots over to sit against the wall next to Chris and, to his credit, he only looks a little bit smug. “I suppose it would be crass to gloat just now.”

Chris wheezes in a way that he hopes is at least somewhat haughty as he gestures at the wet spot in Zach’s jeans.

“Never said I wouldn’t enjoy it, too. You’re fucking gorgeous when you come, by the way. Seriously. If this whole legitimate acting thing falls through, you could have a promising career in porn.”

“Uh, thanks?” Chris manages after a moment, and that earns him a genuine Zach smile, the one he thinks makes him look goofy but really just lights up his whole face. It’s a strangely comfortable moment, sitting sprawled out in afterglow with his side pressed warmly against Zach’s. He closes his eyes and lets his head drop back against the wall, enjoying the sweet lassitude permeating his body. He could get used to this.

“Hey,” Zach says with a nudge of his elbow. “Whenever you’re ready, let’s head to the bedroom. If I don’t take these jeans off soon, my dick might get cemented in them forever.”

Chris struggles to stand up, but Zach pops up easily and offers a hand. Chris takes it. When they get to the bedroom, Zach strips quickly and efficiently, somehow managing to be every bit as graceful as he was on the dance floor. He pulls off his jeans and turns to Chris. “Mind if I let these soak in the sink?”

“No, go ahead,” Chris says, starting to work on his own clothes until he’s down to socks and boxers. When Zach returns, he’s naked, but moving through Chris’ bedroom at complete ease. Chris is surprised to find that his confidence really is attractive when he’s not being a total toolbag about it.

Zach looks over him hungrily – but stops when he gets to his feet. “Aw, c’mon, lose the socks, at least.”

“Aha! You like feet!”

The older man rolls his eyes. “Don’t be an infant. I simply dislike it when the man I just sucked off looks like he’s one step away from jumping into his shoes and running out the door.”

Chris looks down at himself, wondering where the hell Zach thinks he would go clad only in his underwear, but the underlying sentiment is kind of nice, so he pulls off the socks and hurls them in the general direction of the laundry basket.

Zach stretches out on the bed as if it were his own and Chris is inexorably drawn to sit beside him. “So,” Zach starts, “where did this interest in gay sex come from?”

“You want to talk about that now?”

“Hey, we’re not even close to done for the night, but I know damn well Little Christopher needs a breather. And I’m genuinely curious. Never got any bisexual vibes from you.”

“I don’t know,” Chris says with a shrug. “The idea’s never repelled me. And why go through life missing out on the experience?”

“Indeed,” Zach says, waggling his eyebrows. “I’m still kind of surprised you took me up on my offer.”

“Oh fuck, the offer was a _joke_?”

“Not even close. You know how many other people I’ve offered ‘anything they want’? Zero. That’s a good way to get yourself cuffed to a radiator and flogged with a bike chain.”

After a wince, Chris decides to let that one slide. “So why me?”

“Because I trust you. I was pretty sure that you weren’t going to make me put a diaper on you and call you Baby Kwiss, and even if you did, hey, you’re one guy I wouldn’t mind gagging with a pacifier. I mean that in the most loving way possible.” That luminous smile starts to break through again, and he loops an arm around Chris to pull him down to the bed. “Besides, it’s the only way I could get my hands on that hard body of yours.”

This suddenly feels intimate, and maybe Chris should be weirded out by the fact that he’s pressed against almost all of his friend’s naked body, but he’s not. “You’re not as intimidating as you pretend to be, Quinto.”

“Make no mistake, I’m going easy on you,” Zach says through a soft laugh that Chris can feel against his chest. “Speaking of getting my hands on you…”

Zach’s hands drift slowly down Chris’ body, as though the younger man is going to protest. When he doesn’t, Zach captures his lips in a soft kiss. He keeps the pace languorously slow, gently sucking Chris’ lower lip into his mouth and teasing it a little with his tongue. His hands glide down Chris’ back, across his sides and up his chest and back down again. When he hits a ticklish spot just about Chris’ hipbone, the younger man gasps and twitches. Zach chuckles sympathetically and slides his fingers over the spot again with a little more pressure, so instead of tickling it just feels good.

After a few more minutes of Zach’s unhurried caresses, Chris gets up the courage to touch him back. He sort of expected to spend the night imagining it was some hot girl groping him instead of Zach, but he finds the breadth of Zach’s hands and the hard planes of his body not only impossible to ignore, but also unexpectedly alluring. He lifts a hand from where it’s resting on Zach’s hip to place it on his naked chest. There’s no pretending here, not with the surprisingly soft hair beneath his fingers and the shift of muscle as Zach tugs him a little closer. Feeling bold, Chris circles a finger around Zach’s nipple and feels his answering moan rumble up from his diaphragm.

“Mmm, improvising, I see,” Zach murmurs. “I like it.”

“Girls always ignore the nipples, you know?” muses Chris, gently pinching the tightening bud.

“Mm-hmm,” Zach hums, and Chris doubts he was listening at all. “Harder.”

It’s Chris’ turn to chuckle as he brings his other hand up to toy with Zach’s neglected nipple. And this is strangely satisfying, too, seeing Zach writhe under his touch, feeling the older man’s fingers digging into his back. Zach’s breath is coming a little faster now, and Chris is close enough to feel Zach’s cock twitch against his hip. Emboldened by his success, Chris lets one hand brush down Zach’s chest and stomach, through the thick curls to wrap around Zach’s cock. Zach’s pleased gasp is all kinds of encouraging, and Chris is a little surprised at the way his own cock is responding.

Chris lets his hand run up and down Zach’s cock as it hardens, feeling the shift of the delicate skin under his fingers, the growing heat as Zach’s blood rushes south. And Zach lets him, cluing Chris into what he likes with quiet little moans and jerks of his hips while letting his own hands drift down to tweak the younger man’s nipples, trace the lines of his ribs, circle his bellybutton. Chris is just starting to think that he could get Zach off this way when the older man suddenly seizes his wrist. “Not yet, sweetheart. There are other things we’ve got to do first.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Chris releases Zach’s cock. “What do we need?”

“I’ve got condoms in my wallet, and surely a prodigious wanker like yourself has some lube lying around,” Zach says with a leer and a wink.

“You mean you didn’t come equipped with a traveling kit of supplies?” Chris teases as he pulls his own condoms and lube out of the nightstand drawer. “Your résumé let me to believe you were a veritable repository of sexual paraphernalia.”

“Not on my person. That’s what the basement dungeon is for.” Chris looks dumfounded for a moment. “ _Kidding_. You’re so gullible, Christopher. Who puts a dungeon in the basement anymore?”

Chris lets out a grunt and tackles Zach, who gropes the younger man eagerly. “Can I fuck you?” Chris gasps after a few minutes of breathless kissing.

“I don’t know – _can_ you?” Zach retorts with a wicked grin and Chris groans.

“Do you ever just shut up?”

Zach grabs the lube out of his hand. “Why don’t you try and make me?” He slicks his fingers and reaches down to open himself up as Chris rolls on a condom. “Fucking hell, Christopher, you’d better know how to use that thing.”

With a grin, Chris decides to pay him back a little in kind. “You’re not the only one with a long list of satisfied references.”

Zach’s laugh turns into a gasp as he crooks his fingers inside himself. “Mmm, finally the sass comes out. I like it.”

Chris watches hungrily as Zach starts to thrust back on his own fingers, and Zach is quite obviously enjoying being ogled. He flips the bottle of lube back at Chris, who barely manages to catch it before it hits him in the forehead. “Get yourself nice and wet,” Zach says, curling his knees up until they nearly touch his shoulders.

“ _Fuck_ ,” moans Chris, palming himself eagerly with a lubed hand. “How long until—”

“Do it,” Zach growls, pulling his fingers free and reaching for Chris.

The younger man positions himself tentatively at Zach’s entrance. “What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t,” Zach groans, hooking his legs over Chris’ shoulders. “Just fucking _do_ it.”

Chris starts to press in, just past the initial resistance. He manages to push the head of his cock through the tight ring of muscle before he has to stop to catch his breath. Fuck, Zach is so tight around him, so hot that he feels sweat beading at his temples. He fists his hands in the sheets and screws his eyes shut just to try to regain some goddamned control.

Zach is having none of it. “More,” he snarls, rocking down so that Chris slides into him another searing, greedy inch. “Don’t fucking _tease_ me, Christopher, shove that gorgeous cock in me _right fucking now_ or I swear to god—”

But he doesn’t get to finish the threat, because Chris is bracing his knees and thrusting in and in and in until his balls slap wetly against Zach’s ass and the older man growls possessively and digs his fingers into the back of Chris’ neck. “God, you should see your face, you sexy bitch, now move.”

It’s not easy at first, not with Chris so close to the edge and Zach so tight around him, but after the first few shaky, shuddering thrusts, Chris shifts his weight forward onto Zach’s thighs and the push of his hips becomes smoother. “Harder,” Zach moans. “Not faster, but _harder_. Make my teeth rattle.”

Chris has no idea how the hell Zach is talking at all right now when his own brain can hardly form words, but he pistons his hips as hard as he can. Zach shouts blissfully, arching his back so far that his lower body lifts completely off the bed. Chris pushes a knee forward, going deeper, and the change in angle makes Zach cry out on every thrust until he’s wailing a steady stream of _ah fuck yeah give it to me just like that don’t you fucking stop you brilliant son of a bitch_ and it feels so incredible, so fucking intense that Chris keeps forgetting to breathe. Beads of sweat roll down between his shoulder blades as he plunges again and again into Zach’s willing body, unable to stop himself from quickening the pace as Zach’s heels dig into his back.

Miraculously, he doesn’t break rhythm at all when Zach comes, a fact that seems to make Zach shout even louder, clamp down even harder on the younger man’s aching cock until Chris is coming, too. Zach pulls him in tighter, moans his name as Chris’ world tunnels down to Zach’s wide, wild eyes, the inescapable heat of his body, his commands for Chris to _come, right fucking now, Christopher_ , and then everything goes white with bliss.

It takes an embarrassingly long time to sort out whose limbs are whose, and even longer to pull them apart. With the last of his energy, Chris crawls over to drop his head on Zach’s chest and wrap an arm around him. When Zach starts to ask, Chris just mumbles, “Shut up. I like to cuddle. Shut up.”

“That’s a little gay, Chris,” Zach chuckles, but wraps an arm around him anyway.

“Oh, it’s back to just ‘Chris’ now, is it?”

Zach makes a show of lifting the sheets and glancing down at Chris’ spent cock. “For at least the next hour, if I’ve done my job right.”

“Is this going to become a weird euphemism for arousal that you reference at inappropriate times in public?”

Zach pouts a little. “Am I really so predictable?”

“I just know you too well.”

There’s comfortable silence for a few moments as Chris focuses on the heartbeat beneath his cheek. It’s not as awkward as he feared it would be – it feels surprisingly good just to lie in Zach’s arms, and if that’s gay… well, he did just have sex with a man. Doesn’t mean he suddenly feels the urge to wear assless chaps or go shoe shopping. Not at the same time, at least.

“So,” Zach purrs warmly into Chris’ hair, “what’s the verdict?”

“Hmm?”

“Gay sex: yea or nay?”

“Meh, I don’t know—”

“ _Meh_? I know you didn’t just ‘ _meh’_ me!” Chris tries to bury his laugh in Zach’s chest, and the older man groans and slaps Chris’ ass indignantly. “You little shit, you’re angling for an encore!”

“Can’t base my judgment on two data points.”

“How scientific of you,” Zach sighs and lets his hand rub gently over the skin he just slapped. “Exactly how many, uh, 'data points' are you hoping for?”

“I really should have as large a sample size as possible. And I’m thinking we should, um, vary the test conditions, too.”

“Couch it in all the statistical bullshit you want – it still means you want my hot body.”

“Need to be thorough about this if it’s going on my résumé,” Chris says, his eyes too heavy to stay open.

“Uh, yeah, about that. You do know I mostly wrote that to get you into bed?”

“I had an inkling. Though I’m still not sure why you thought you had to make stuff up.”

“I did no such thing,” Zach says, his offended tone interrupted by a loud yawn. “Told you I was going easy on you.”

“Whatever,” Chris mumbles, too tired to hold up his side of the banter any longer, though as he drifts off to sleep, he thinks he hears Zach mutter something about “…show you who’s making stuff up when I show up on your doorstep with Karl and 20 yards of rope…”


End file.
